A Loss For Words

Ketchup

The first time it happens, he doesn't think anything of it. Neither does she.

They're twenty-one, and on his tour bus eating dinner after his show, and she forgets the word ketchup.

"Hey James, can you pass me a packet of—" she says, pausing, a confused expression on her face.

He gives her a strange look. "Um...ketchup?" he asks, handing it to her, and she nods, relieved.

"Ketchup," she repeats, and her mouth forms the word the same as it always has. "Ketchup!" she says. "That was weird, I just completely blanked."

He raises an eyebrow. "I think you've been staying up too late."

She scoffs. "But when am I supposed to do my homework, James? And write you your next single? I couldn't just skip college—like some people," she says pointedly.

"Couldn't or wouldn't?" he asks teasingly, and then his expression grows concerned. "Seriously though, Mia, you look kinda tired. Come on, I'll go to bed too."

"But I have an online final tomorrow and three chapters of a book to read and—"

"And you're Mia, and I'd bet anything that you know it all already."

She opens her mouth to protest but he just raises his eyebrows. She frowns. "So maybe I do know it, but it never hurts to review and—"

He stands up and takes her wrist and she sputters after him as he drags her to their bunks. "Please?" he asks when he turns to her, his eyes softening.

She sighs. "Fine."

He lets her go.